You are kindness.
You are tranquility.
You are all that is good and tender in my life.
You are soft hands and sweet kisses.
You are gentle touch and safe embrace.
You are my harbour, always.
You come home from work, and you are always tired. I wait for you with supper at the ready. You smile with tired eyes, kiss me lightly. You eat, you sigh, you look guiltily at me when you think I am not aware. You see I have put on makeup just the way you like me to; the dress you gave me once; stockings, too pretty. And you sigh.
But I am unruly love.
I am a storm.
I am vicious devotion. I am rough caresses and angry lust
and I need your impatience and your fierceness.
I need you.
You ask me, is anything wrong? I look at you. I see the man I need, sitting, tired. Face ashen, hands limp. Your shoulders used to be so square, so strong. I can no longer light the fire in your soul. You are so tired, and I don't know what to do.
So I come at you with back arched, claws out.
Scratching your hands, your chest, your back.
You'll say, no, honey, don't. Honey, please.
You'll pull me close, and I am spitting defiance, daring you to need me like I need you now.
I need you to still the roaring of my blood; I need you to fight my fire with your fire.
God, but I need you to take me down now.
No, sweetheart, I say. Nothing is wrong. I'm tired too. I'll take care of the dishes now. You go watch some tv before we go to bed. Can I get you anything? Anything...? You shake your head and leave me alone, standing in the middle of the floor, hands by my sides, nails digging into my palms. I fill the sink with hot water, and force my bleeding hands under. The stinging will keep me real for another night.
You hold me so close and your back bleeds.
I'll fight you, and scream with desire.
I'll take whatever pain you need for the beast to awaken...
I free your beast, and only when you throw me to the floor and mount me, eyes flashing and teeth bared, will I be satisfied.
I come into the dark room. Tv's mumbling, flashing lights and shadows. You sleep in the corner of the couch. Eyelashes resting against your cheek, lines faded. One hand hugging my favourite cushion to your side. This pain inside will tear me apart one day, but not today. Today, I cover you with a blanket, and sit beside you.
One day we will burn.